The Human Puppet
by Cyri's Alter Ego
Summary: His was a true art, preserved for eternity. Even something fleeting could come to understand that when it was dying on the ground in front of him.


_This is so short like what even happened here idk. Also timelines are seriously screwed (Sas would probably already have been a puppet waaaay before Deidara even joined the Akatsuki since he left Suna like 20 years ago) but what the hell here's a thing which I wrote have fun._

_Warning: swears._

_I don't own Naruto, as per obvious._

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**The Human Puppet**

"I'm back, Danna, un."

Deidara closed the apartment door with minimal attention paid to the fact that it was two a.m. He scuffed his feet on the bland hotel carpet and removed his hat, tossing it onto the ground. The air was cold, and the apartment they'd checked into dark and silent. Deidara frowned.

"Danna?"

There was no answer. Deidara squinted. Perhaps Sasori had left on a whim? It wouldn't be unlike him. Deidara knew full well that he was an obnoxious kid to be around.

The apartment was as Deidara had left it. There was no sign of a struggle, or anything suggesting Sasori was gone against his will. Well, of course not. Hunted as they were, Sasori wasn't stupid enough to let himself get kidnapped or killed by other ninja.

The only thing in the apartment was one of Sasori's puppets. It was blank-faced and one that Deidara didn't recognise.

"Are you here, Sasori no Danna, un?" asked Deidara. The echo of the air seemed to bite his words back at him like stinging little wasps. He kicked his shoes off and shrugged away his coat.

That was when he heard a feeble cough.

Deidara froze, clenching his fists. "Danna?"

There was a muffled wheeze from behind one of the sofas, as though somebody was trying to stop themselves from making any sound. But if that was their goal, they failed miserably – Deidara leapt at the noise and virtually ripped the sofa from its place near the wall. The first thing he saw was blood.

There was a lot of it. That was all he could think at first – there was a lot of it. Deidara rarely saw the blood of the ones he killed. Although some of the Akatsuki took great delight in bathing their hands in the lifeblood of their enemies, Deidara tended to blow his victims into smithereens and be done with it. His was a more practical approach. But here, now, here was Sasori, his Danna, lying gasping on the ground with his insides gaping up at the ceiling.

"Sa-Sasori!" Deidara was frankly appalled at himself for not throwing up, or something. The gash in Sasori's body opened up shoulder to hip, displaying several important organs and the starkly white bones of his ribcage. A couple of ribs looked broken. There was a puppet and a blade beside him, and everything was soaked in blood.

Sasori glanced up at Deidara through hooded eyes and tried to struggle into a sitting position. "Dei-" He paused and coughed blood.

"What the hell are you doing?" Deidara demanded, somewhat alarmed. He knelt down in a scarlet puddle and tried to support Sasori's back. "Don't try and move, you idiot! Who did this to you, un?"

It was a mark of how much pain Sasori had to be in to accept Deidara's help without question. He gritted his teeth and slumped into his arms. "You… fool," he rasped. "I would- never have let someone- do this to me. I- did it- to myself."

Deidara stared. His heart was pumping hard, and he was trying his best to avert his gaze from Sasori's. Who knew that he'd be so squeamish? "The fuck are you talking about, Danna, un?" For the first time in his life, Deidara wished he knew some kind of medical jutsu. He cast around for help – and his eyes fell on the puppet.

No.

No fucking way.

"You're so… blind." Sasori coughed.

"Blind? You're calling me blind?" cried Deidara, anger welling up inside of him. He gripped Sasori's arms, which seemed at least to be intact. "You've tried to cut yourself up and turn yourself into one of your stupid little dollies, haven't you, un?"

The reply he got was a smirk. Deidara couldn't believe it.

"What am I supposed to tell Leader if you die, Danna?" he hissed, hating himself for the crazy tears that had suddenly announced their arrival. "I'll get regrouped with that Jashin-worshipping Hidan, you inconsiderate asshole, un!"

"It… It does hurt a little… more than I expected," Sasori admitted in a mumble. His face was pasty white and blood-smeared.

"Well what the fuck _did_ you expect when you sliced yourself up like a salami, un?!"

"Deidara." Sasori somehow managed to growl even in his state. "Stop being- so- emotional. Help-" He paused, and Deidara wasn't sure whether it was more to do with the fact that his insides where way too close to the _outside_ or because he was so unused to asking for help. "Help me- illustrate- true art." He reached out unsteadily and clutched his puppet around the wrist.

So that was it. It was more of his 'true art' bullshit. But this… this was too much. This was insanity.

But still, Deidara looked at him. He was bleeding so heavily; it was clear there wasn't much time left. And he'd seen Sasori make human puppets before. He knew how it was done – the basic mechanics, at least. But how… how was he going to stay…?

"Will you still be Danna, though, un?" he whispered.

A quiet smirk tugged Sasori's lips, lips that were stained with the blood he'd retched. He took Deidara's hands in his and pressed them into a seal. His palms were slimy. "Seal- my chakra," he whispered hoarsely. "_Hitokugutsu no jutsu_. Say it."

"_Hi-hitokugutsu no jutsu_," Deidara repeated shakily. His hands began to glow like a medic's.

"Do- do you see now, Deidara?" whispered Sasori harshly. In the light of Deidara's jutsu, his face was full of sharp hollows, and the blood looked even darker. "Art… is a moment of beauty- captured… for eternity."

Deidara laughed grimly, pretending he wasn't crying.

Sasori hadn't made art. He had created destruction.

"Katsu," Deidara whispered.

He almost wished he meant it.


End file.
